


Spitfire

by BlueDarknessIceHeart



Series: Fictober 2019 [7]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Near Death Experiences, Pregnancy, Threats of Violence, Twins, Unplanned Pregnancy, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 16:31:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20978960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueDarknessIceHeart/pseuds/BlueDarknessIceHeart
Summary: Fictober19#7: "No, and that's final."Alia has chased and chased her happiness her entire life. Handling a plague that's ripping apart Vesuvia, and now Lucio, is not the optimal time to finally have the one thing she's truly wished for to come true. A small bright spot in the middle of everything.It lasts, this time, but not exactly how anyone would picture. There is no idyllic family, just a tired witch and her two children - with one taking just a bit too much after their father.





	Spitfire

**Author's Note:**

> This pretty much counter [Karma As Cruel As You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14021931), which is the Fire Starter//Ash Covered canon for how Alia's pregnancy went.

Having a child in the middle of the world falling to pieces around them was, perhaps, one of the more highly ranked mistakes in their lives. Neither of them knew if he would live to see his own heir, the way the plague wracked his body as time went on. 

A lone child was a scary enough thought for the courts; the two most volatile people they’d ever seen passing that down was a terror in the making, especially when they factored in their mother being a powerful witch. The lone child winding up as twins with strawberry blonde tufts of hair and their father’s bright silver eyes was the trigger being pulled for another round of uproar. 

No one could keep Lucio, sick as he was, from claiming them as his own publicly, looping script of a signature on papers deeming them heirs. There were whispers of pity that the witch behind his throne had dodged the plague only to nearly die bringing the Count’s brats into the world, that she had to watch someone she clearly loved wither away with a babe on each hip. 

Rian and Layla were wild things, had been from the start. While Rian, his hair turning more towards his mother’s red shade over time, was the calmer of the two his sister was as impulsive and wild as her father had been. Blonde hair and bright silver eyes would’ve marked her as Lucio’s from the start, but the snapping and snarling that her personality amounted to by the time she was a pre-teen was perhaps the easier mark. 

Her children had always been involved in the politics of Vesuvia, Nadia taking to helping with raising her late husband's children alongside the witch she had deemed a friend for years. They hadn’t liked the courtiers as children, and that was far more apparent now. 

“Layla Quinn get your foot off of Vlastomil’s throat _now._” 

Alia looked as tired and worn thin as she had during the plague, trying to balance twin teens and the courtiers still trying to remove her from the court - they’d never succeed, but they never stopped either. 

“But-” 

“No, Layla.” 

Her hands hooked around the lower part of the knife’s handle that her daughter had in hand, Rian hooking a hand into the cloak his sister wore and tugging backwards. Layla held tighter to the knife, her teeth bared and swatting at her twin. 

“He was-” 

“I said no, Layla, and that’s final.” 

Rian was the one that opened his mouth to make everything clear, the more analytical of the two. “He was speaking ill of father, and of you.” 

Alia looked between her children, brow arched. 

“Layla, let him up.” 

The blonde girl moved off of the Praetor, letting him splutter at her feet before watching him stand up. She shifted back next to her brother, two sets of bright silver watching their mother. They knew she was a powerful witch, had been trained with their own magic over time, the two taking her affinity for fire rather than her healing. 

“Now, Layla, I know you like to be more direct with things, but even your father could appreciate some subtlety in handling others.” 

Rian watched her closely, his mother’s tone calm and even as light wreathed her fingers. Layla was grinning, sharp and cold, as Vlastomil stepped back until he met the wall.

**Author's Note:**

> [Come say Hi on tumblr!](https://bluedarknesswriteheart.tumblr.com/)   



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